


Pulse

by karkatfreckles



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Rainbow Drinker Karkat, Tentabulges, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 03:49:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1141070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karkatfreckles/pseuds/karkatfreckles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little PWP based of amarantto's rainbow drinker Karkat AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pulse

**Author's Note:**

> I seriously wrote this thing in a couple of hours at 4 AM. I'm sleep deprived and out of control. Sorry if it's terrible. Based off of the following post:  
> [Comic found here](http://shinebrightlikeamaryam.tumblr.com/post/73702001198/amarantto-yes-more-rainbow-drinker)

“Dave, I’m hungry.” Karkat’s abrasive tone does nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. You find yourself unable to conceal the most uncool possible reaction: you visibly jump as the troll approaches you.

You do your best to talk him out of it. “C’mon dude. Aren’t you bored of drinking the same blood all the time? I mean, I bet you can find someone tastier than…”  You hesitate. You’ve been down this road before and as you turn to look at Karkat, you can see the resolve in his grumpy little face. After he became one of those freaky alien vampires, he tried to cycle through everyone so that he wouldn’t be taking too much blood from any one person. However he always seemed to gravitate towards your blood, always seeming to enjoy it the best. Maybe it was because you two were unironic alien boyfriends or whatever. Maybe your blood was just super delicious. “… me.”

A predatory grin breaks across Karkat’s face and it is the most out of place expression you’ve ever seen on him. His teeth were always sharp, but now he had four narrower, more pointed teeth. Specially designed to puncture a neck and get to the good stuff.

You didn’t necessarily dislike the whole feeding process, especially considering the fact that Karkat went well out of his way to make it enjoyable for you. The only complaint you had was that you had to spend the rest of the day afterwards taking it easy and mostly just laying around because having the blood sucked out of you was always a physically draining experience. Pun ironically intended.

Karkat is hovering around you like a hungry dog waiting for a meal and you sigh in resignation, knowing he will not let you be. You stand up from your computer and move over to your bed, knowing you don’t need to tell him to follow you. This has become rather routine and you possess a small collection of scars from past experience.

You lay on your back over the thin sheets, decorated with what you used to see as card suits you can only now see as quadrants. You’re propped on your elbows and you will never not be turned on by how confident Karkat acts when he’s hungry. In any other intimate situation he is shy and requires a great deal of reassurance to just get his damn pants off. But when he’s hungry, the troll takes charge. There’s no outward sign of nerves or trepidation. And no matter how tired you are after feeding your boyfriend-matesprit, that will never not turn you on.

Karkat is shorter than you but he’s denser, making him just as heavy. He’s more compact, not so wiry as you, and you love the feel of his weight as he moves on top of you, straddling your hips.

“So is there gonna be foreplay or are we skippin’ that whole song and dance—“ You’re cut off by a fist in your hair tugging your head to the side, exposing your neck. You can’t help it, you moan quietly at the sensation and it earns you a small smirk from the rainbow drinker.

“You say that as if I’ve been a total nookstain about this. Give me some fucking credit, Strider.” Suddenly he rolls his hips and you feel yours stutter at the contact and you’re getting hard embarrassingly fast. Karkat can obviously feel it because his expression grows more smug. He knows all your ins and outs, literally and figuratively. To be fair, you know his just as well, but he’s running this show and you’re always happy to let him do the work.

He leans forward and presses your lips together and it's chaste for just a moment before you snort a laugh through your nose and he _growls_ and suddenly his tongue is in your mouth and he rolls his hips again and tugs your hair and this is why you don’t actually hate it when he’s hungry. Again, he grinds down on you and between that and the hair pulling and the tonsil hockey, you’re enjoying yourself too much.

Only once he’s convinced you’re having a good time does he disengage his tongue from yours and he’s trailing little nips and kisses down your jaw and then he's at your neck. He looks up at you with his mouth hovering over your throat. Even though you’ve already signed up for this, he is still asking permission, in spite of how he had demanded earlier.

“C’mon Vantas. Get it over with, already.” You want to sound impatient but it comes out breathy and your words are panted more than spoken. You can feel his fingers on your hips moving towards the front of your jeans.

You see his pupils dilate to narrow, feral slits but he doesn’t give you anymore warning. You are greeted by the familiar, terrible sensation of teeth puncturing your neck like syringes. And then they’re pulling out but replaced by an even worse feeling as he sucks at the wounds and draws the blood from your veins like his own personal juice box. Normally you’re a sucker for neck biting, but this is too much even for you. The first couple times he did this you may or may not have passed out. You’ll never tell.

After several minutes of the terrible feeling of the push-pull of having your blood sucked out of two small holes in your neck, you feel his tongue lap over the punctures and the blood begins to clot. You are grateful it's over and now the troll is quick to show his gratitude now that he’s been fed. He licks the blood from around his mouth and then he returns to his earlier ministrations.

You feel him grind down again and this time there’s the familiar sensation of his crazy alien boner through his own pants to accompany your own crazy human one. Your mouths crash together again and you’ve stopped being bothered by the fact that he tastes a little coppery after his meal. You can feel Karkat’s hands on your jeans and suddenly they’re unbuttoned and he’s pulling them down along with your boxers to free your erection.

He wastes no time in doing the same with his own pants. You’re no longer surprised by the red crotch tentacle. Exploring each other’s junk had been an experience, especially with how incredibly shy Karkat had been over his own. He had fretted relentlessly that you would freak out and lose interest. And while a red crotch tentacle had not been something you’d expected and you were a little weirded out, the things that crotch tentacle could do erased any trepidation you had.

You can’t help but moan when you feel it curl around your dick and he gives a possessive growl that goes straight to your groin. After a moment of the two of you canting desperately against each other, he finally sets a rhythm. He rolls his hips and grinds down while his bulge coils and writhes around your dick. At the same time you are rolling your hips with him.

The two of you are panting and coming unwound and you can’t help but shout as he bites your shoulder. He doesn’t do it to feed, doesn’t even break the skin, but his teeth are going to leave a lovely bruise. As your desperation for _harder, harder, more friction, right fuckin' now_  builds, you grab his ass and are practically pulling him against you with each thrust. Karkat releases your shoulder from his teeth only to move to your collarbone and chomp down on that. This time he releases it after a moment and laps and nips at the aggravated flesh.

You’re about to lose it and so you decide it’s time to play dirty. You remove one hand from his lovely little ass and reach up to his head. He gives a threatening growl, knowing what you’re doing, but you just don’t care. You card a hand through his course hair before you reach one of his horns and stroke at the base. The troll becomes a mess, panting and moaning and he reaches his climax before you do, unleashing a terrible mess of translucent red fluid and the way his tentacle dick tightens and writhes against your not-so-tentacle dick pushes you over the edge as well, moaning and cursing all the way.

There is a moment’s hesitation, where the two of you are far too happy to simply lay there, entangled, before finally Karkat’s crazy alien junk releases yours and he rolls off you. There’s no time for post sex cuddles because the mess that is genetic material is always happy to stain everything. The two of you pull up your pants, doing your best to ignore the sensation of cooling semen and genetic material just long enough to get to the bathroom. You make an attempt to get off the bed and take off the sheets but blood loss is a hell of a bitch.

Before you can fall, Karkat catches you and helps you to the bathroom before going back to the bedroom to shuck the sheets from the bed. He returns and instead of cuddling in bed, the two of you get your fix in the tub. Baths aren’t uncool enough to reach ironic levels, but you don’t have much room to argue because you’re still dizzy from feeding your vampire alien boyfriend.

After bathing you assure Karkat you are well enough to go to the kitchen to get yourself some sustenance and you know he will fight you but Gamzee has impeccable timing. So you strumble down the hall to the kitchen and there you see the absolute last person you ever want to see in situations like these. She has a smirk so sly and predatory it makes hungry Karkat look like a lamb. It’s vicious and you glare at her from across the room.

“Don’t say anything.” You can feel your face heating up and you know you probably look like the definition of uncool.

Her expression grows even more wicked and you know she’s not going to back down. “I never thought you could moan that loud, brother.” Your face and even your ears grow hot from the intensity of your uncool blush and she is repressing laughter, you can just feel it.

Just before you turn to the fridge to dig out some apple juice you groan, “You are dead to me.”


End file.
